


Deceptive Signals

by sbdrag



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alpha Dax, Alpha Garak, Alpha Jake, Alpha Keiko, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alphas Masquerading as Omegas, Beta Sisko, Episode Related: s01e02 Past Prologue, Intergalactic Alcohol Exchange, M/M, Omega Julian, Omega O'Brien, Omegas Masquerading as Alphas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbdrag/pseuds/sbdrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Garak turned his head at a new alpha scent. It was heavily doused with musk, with overtones of sand and arid air. But there was something… the Cardassian moved forward, closer to the railing, mouth opening slightly to better take in the scent. He had, of course, been trained to detect synthetic scents. He wasn’t sure if this was a synthetic scent, but there was something… </i>
</p>
<p>Elim Garak is the alpha son of two omegas, and a former agent of the Obsidian Order - except that there are no alphas in the Order.</p>
<p>Julian Bashir is an omega that produces alpha pheromones as an unintended side effect of his enhancements - not that he can tell anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I, Garak](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248523) by [Cyrelia_J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J). 



Garak took a deep breath. The air in the Promenade was… cleaner, somehow. An odd thing, given that Terok Nor had been properly disabled and ransacked before the military had handed it over to the Federation. Repairs were still very much way, but there were so few people on the station that the nearly oppressive alpha scent that usually infused the air was gone.

 

The Cardassian military’s officer ranks were full of exclusively alphas. Betas were allowed in the enlisted ranks, but many wore synthetic alpha scent to make themselves more impressive. The mess made most ships and military facilities a messy soup of alpha pheromone, one thick enough to cut with a knife. It was generally tolerable - after all, one could grow accustomed to anything given enough time. 

 

But this… this clean, mostly clear air… yes, there was certainly something to be said for that as well. It had been a long time since Garak had been able to breath easy - both literally and figuratively. 

 

The Cardassian stood in a shadowed corner of the second floor, watching the Promenade from above. The Bajoran and Starfleet personnel were mainly betas, scurrying about this way and that as they cleared debris and rubble. There were some exceptions, however - there, those two. The Starfleet engineer and his dark haired mate, an alpha/omega pair. And, just coming onto the Promenade, an alpha Trill woman. There was something… gentler about her scent than the Cardassian alphas - less acidic, though no less potent. 

 

It was always strange to encounter the scents of other races - oh, everyone had alphas, betas, and omegas. It seemed to be the only universal constant between alien races. But the way those biological determinations shaped the various races was vastly different, as was the plethora of scents each role emitted. 

 

Cardassians used the roles to determine job eligibility - alphas were given leadership positions, betas did low level work, and omegas handled the sciences - as well as being members of the Obsidian Order. Though the Order also had access to the best synthetics in the quadrant, though the Tal Shiar could rival them on a good day. Garak almost chuckled to himself, musing on it - given his own situation, he would know better than most about Order synthetics. 

 

_ The alpha son of two omegas, something that should be impossible. Of course, everyone always said you were unorthodox, Elim. _ Garak’s synthetic scent had been made to mimic a Cardassian omega - sickly sweet, almost saccharine, but with an underlying heavy damp; in fact, it was very like kanaar. Most Bajorns would say it was like decaying fruit. It was in full contrast to the Cardassian alpha scent - generally sharp and tangy, like citrus, with a sharp musk underneath. Betas were a mixture of the two - a damp musk with gentle fruit overtones. It was, as far as he knew, the scent most palatable to other races.

 

As a Bajoran engineer jogged by, not noticing the Cardassian, a waft of his scent reached Garak. Bajoran betas had earthy smells - grass, loam, trees. It was the background scent for all Bajorans - a sort of default. Omegas of that races had flowery overlays - it made them passibly similar to Cardassian omegas, which explained the attraction it held for the alphas. Bajoran alphas, however, had very clean scents - rain, fresh water, clear skies. Not agreeable at all. 

 

Before the Occupation, the Bajoran Dejaras were partially determined by role - during the resistance, however, this had been impossible to keep up. It was hard to believe they would go back to such a system now, either.

 

Humans, however… Garak shook his head. Humans seemed to be all over the place. Not only did they disregard one’s role in the choosing of occupation, they also seemed to have vastly varied scents. Take, for example, the omega engineer and his alpha mate - his scent was warm, like honey, but held a slight edge of musk to it. His alpha, in contrast, had an earthy smell similar to a Bajoran beta, but with chimes of something sharper - cloves, perhaps. There was always something unmistakable about which scent belonged to which role, but it was an indescribable quality - something instinctive. 

 

Garak turned his head at a new alpha scent. It was heavily doused with musk, with overtones of sand and arid air. But there was something… the Cardassian moved forward, closer to the railing, mouth opening slightly to better take in the scent. He had, of course, been trained to detect synthetic scents. He wasn’t sure if this was a synthetic scent, but there was something… 

 

Ah, there was his quandary - a young man in a Starfleet uniform with blue shoulders. That would mean either medical or science division. Garak studied him. He walked with confidence, head and shoulders tilted back to make himself appear larger.  _ Well, he  _ walks _ like an alpha. _ There was still something off about his scent, but he was already moving away.

 

Garak melted back into the shadows, fingers tapping on his thigh in contemplation. A puzzle - likely one that would be quickly solved, but at least it was something to occupy his time in his exile. The Cardassian smiled to himself - he would have to get to know this young man in blue, close enough to examine his off-scent. 

 

* * *

 

Garak moved his way through the Replimat carefully. What an odd thing, this Federation - providing a location for free meals for the general populace. He supposed it was to do with their belief that all basic needs should be met, but it still seemed an odd way to conduct business. However, contemplating Starfleet oddities was not today’s agenda.

 

No, today was the day he spotted the off-scent alpha human - the station’s new Chief Medical Officer, he had learned. It would make his little experiment all the more interesting.

 

If the scent was synthetic, the doctor’s behavior would give him away as being either a true alpha, or a sham. It would simply take some gentle maneuvering to determine which it was. And the first step was sneaking around behind the young man before addressing him.

 

The human seemed to sense him at the last moment - head turning to follow his movement behind the doctor’s chair (easily explained with the replicators being located behind the table he sat at) and then around, only to look up in surprise as the Cardassian stopped and looked down at him. 

 

“It’s Doctor Bashir, isn’t it?” Garak smiled. “Of course it is.” He affected a look of questioning concern. “May I… introduce myself?”

 

Julian had heard of the lone Cardassian on the station - of course he had, the man was more than likely a spy - but he hadn’t expected to directly interact with the man. In fact, he had been warned against it. But that wasn’t the only thing that had him off-guard - the Cardassian had a very clearly omega scent, but had walked straight up to him and spoken with a great deal of confidence. 

 

It wasn’t that Julian wasn’t used to random omegas coming to speak with him -  _ thank you, Father, for the genetic enhancements that cause me to give off an alpha pheromone despite being an omega -  _ alright, perhaps that wasn’t fair, since it was an unintended side effect, but one that wouldn’t exist if it hadn’t been for the DNA resequencing in the first place. In any case, omegas did come up and speak to him - but it was always very polite; they introduced themselves, he introduced himself, and then they made small talk.

 

Never had an omega simply strolled up and  _ told _ him who is was - even when, of course, they knew. And the way the Cardassian  _ asked _ if he could introduce himself afterwards, it was almost… sardonic. 

 

That was the main reason for his delayed response. “Uuuuh… yes, yes of course.”

 

Garak smiled. He did so love to throw alphas off - of course, keeping the man off balance was only a tool. A well placed distraction kept people pretending to be something they weren’t from thinking too much on how they were  _ supposed _ to respond to a situation. “My name is Garak. A Cardassian by birth, obviously - the only one of us left on this station, as a matter of fact. So, I do appreciate making new friends -” And here he slid into the seat across from the doctor, another distinctly un-omega move, “-whenever I can. You are new to this station, I believe?”

 

Julian was distinctly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if the ‘alpha’ thing to do here was insist the Cardassian leave for invading his territory - which seemed terribly rude - or to stand his ground because he was an alpha (or he was supposed to be) because the Cardassian was an omega. It didn’t help that the man kept domineering the conversation, asking questions and answering them before Julian had a chance, or asking a question that sounded more like a statement.  _ Perhaps this is simply how Cardassian omegas are expected to act? _

 

“I-I-I am, yes.” Julian forced a chuckle, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. The centerpiece got in the way, and he swatted at it instinctively - not that it made much difference. “Though… though, I understand  _ you’ve _ been here quite a while.”

 

Garak considered. Making his hands a barrier between them was rather more omega like than alpha, but it was hardly proof that the doctor was not what he presented himself to be. The stammering was likely just nerves, and he had recovered himself well enough to engage in the conversation.  _ I’m either going to enjoy making this alpha squirm, or find out what he really is.  _ “Ah. You know of me, then.”

 

Julian sat straight, forcing his hands down. Statement, not a question - what was he supposed to do with that? He looked down, and spat out the first thing that came to mind. “Would you care for some of this Tarkalean tea? It’s very good.”  _ Really, Julian? Is that the best you can do? _

 

Garak reassessed. A food offering? Very alpha. He smiled. “What a thoughtful young man. How  _ nice _ that we’ve met.” Subtlely, he scented the air. There was that musk and sand smell, but what was… there was something more, he could tell, but… “As you may also know, I have a clothing shop nearby. So if you should require any apparel, or simply wish - as I do - for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I’m at your disposal doctor.”

 

Julian nodded, trying to hide the way he was breathing shallowly. He really was not a fan of omega scents in general. At least now things made a little more sense - Garak was simply being a little more… aggressive in showing his interest than the other omegas Julian had come across. Which, he had to admit, was actually a little refreshing. He was drawn to alphas, for the most part, naturally inclined toward their scent and all that, but his own alpha scent repelled them. Which meant he drew in his fair share of omegas and submissive betas - very tiresome over time. “You’re very kind, Mister Garak.”

 

“Oh, it’s just Garak.”  _ Let’s see what you do with that, doctor. _ “Plain, simple-”

 

“Garak.” They said it in unison. 

 

The Cardassian was almost disappointed at the way the man looked down - clearly, he was an omega in disguise. Why, with the Federation’s relaxed standards, he would feel the need to do such a thing, Garak had no idea. But he could figure that out later. He began to rise. “Now, good day to you, doctor.” 

 

Julian nodded, almost sighing aloud in relief. He would simply continue to show he was uninterested, and that would be that.

 

Seeing the evident relief, Garak couldn’t help wanting to unsettle the doctor one more time. He placed his hands over the young man’s shoulders.

 

Julian nearly jumped out of his seat in surprise, the hair raising on the nape of his neck. 

 

“I’m so glad to have made such an interesting new friend today.” It was the most alpha behavior Garak had taken in a long, long time. And it felt  _ good _ , even as he only watched the reaction for a few moments before leaving.  _ I’ll have to speak to the young doctor again sometime. _

 

Julian watched the Cardassian go, that omega scent cloying around him after the departure of its owner. He’s moderately sure an alpha would have reacted more aggressively to such a bold move - but he’s absolutely sure he has no idea what just happened.    
  



	2. To New Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is abuzz with thoughts of his spy fantasies coming true, while Garak works on collecting pieces for his puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since part of this is rewriting episode scenes, if you get confused, might want to go back and refresh your memory on what happened since I'm sticking to just Julian and Garak here.

Julian rushed to Ops. After the strangeness of his encounter with Garak had worn off, he felt positively  _ buzzing _ with energy. He’d just spoken to what was quite likely a Cardassian _ spy! _ He didn’t anyone on the station well yet, but he absolutely had to tell  _ someone _ what had happened. This was simply  _ incredible! _

 

When the turbolift reached the top, he rushed over to O’Brien. He felt rather comfortable around the grumpy engineer - likely because they were both omegas. Not that the Chief knew that - he was probably so off-putting around Julian because he assumed the excitable doctor was attracted to him as an alpha to an omega - at least, Julian assumed that was the case. But he liked talking to O’Brien - he always liked talking to mated omegas, because they weren’t fawning all over him. If he had to put up with some disgruntlement on the Chief’s part in order to talk with another omega, so be it. 

 

“You won’t  _ believe _ who sat down next to  _ me _ in the Replimat,” the doctor said. 

 

As per usual, O’Brien ignored him, “Major, upper pylon three will be shut down for maintenance for forty-eight hours.”

 

Julian was not going to let that stop him, “The  _ spy! _ ”

 

That caught the engineer’s attention, and he looked up. 

 

The doctor grinned in victory. He spotted Commander Sisko nearby, and moved over to him,  “Garak, the Cardassian.”

 

“We don’t know for a fact that Garak is a spy, doctor,” the beta replied.

 

Julian liked having a beta commander. Most postings had alphas - natural leadership ability and all that. But Commander Sisko was a beta - and his level headedness seemed perfect for the unbalanced political situation surrounding Deep Space Nine. But it also meant that he wasn’t at all aggressive in his leadership style, even when it would seem the most appropriate course of action.

 

“He is. You should have heard him,” the doctor crossed the room to stay by the Commander’s side, too excited to stay in one place anyway, “He - he introduced himself. And - and - and struck up conversation  _ just like that _ . Like he was making  _ contact _ with me - with  _ me _ , of all people.”

 

Dax peered over at him with an amused smile, “What do you think he might want from  _ you _ , Julian?”

 

The doctor frowned, suddenly seeing there might be a few flaws with conviction, “I don’t know,” but then he smiled, inspiration striking, “Federation medical secrets? Rest assured they’re safe with me, Commander.”

 

It was hard to tell if Sisko was amused or annoyed - perhaps both, “I’m sure they are, Dr. Bashir.”

 

“In fact, Chief O’Brien,” Julian was moving again, back across the floor, “I think we should place a monitoring device on me.”

 

Julian missed the smile Benjamin gave. The Commander was quite used to excitable alphas - his son had taken after Jennifer in that respect - and while occasionally unprofessional, the doctor’s enthusiasm was refreshing. The man seemed to have missed all of the aggressive alpha traits so many picked through puberty, but still managed to hold onto that childlike excitement. Benjamin felt it would be a disservice to attempt to shoot down such a harmless daydream. 

 

O’Brien was not so amused - he already had more than enough work cut out for him  _ without _ feeding into Julian’s ridiculous fantasies. Typical alpha, expecting everyone to cater to him. At least his Keiko wasn’t like that. The Chief looked up at Sisko, hoping the Commander would end this foolishness.

 

Julian followed the look, and glanced around the Ops floor, realizing he had little actual support, “Well… just in case. I, eh… he’s up to something?”

 

Benjamin almost wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t going to waste the Chief's time just for his own amusement, “I don’t think that will be necessary, doctor - just be very cautious when you’re around him.”

 

“Besides, isn’t Garak an omega?” Dax asked, tilting her head. 

 

Sisko arched a brow at the doctor.

 

Julian rolled his eyes, “Well, yes, but doesn't that make his behavior  _ more _ suspicious? I mean, how many omegas do you know that just… invite themselves to sit with you?”

 

Dax smiled, “You’d be surprised.”

 

The rest of the conversation was interrupted by Kira announcing a small craft approaching.

 

* * *

 

 

Garak smiled, sipping his kanar in an obscured corner of Quark’s. It was simply amazing, really, how many  people would speak about private matters so  _ openly _ . He sipped his drink, listening to the station’s denizens discuss their day. He wondered how many realized how useful information on malfunctioning parts of the station could be, or a shortage of medical supplies. An inexperienced spy would probably call most of the conversation drivel - and Garak would be inclined to agree - but one never really knew when a piece of gossip could come in handy.

 

He’d learned that during the time of Terok Nor - he’d started running low on injections to alter his pheromones, and had discovered the Bajoran black market entirely by accident. While fixing an officer’s uniform, his mistress had used his shop to meet with a contact. He was ashamed to admit that in his despair over his circumstances, he’d almost dismissed the pair entirely. 

 

Then he had picked up the pattern of their speech, and realized he was listening to a coded message. And it had led him to a very discreet  Cardassian science officer able to get him what he needed, though at a much higher cost than her Bajoran customers. He supposed that was fair, really - she would probably be looking over her shoulder for Obsidian Order operatives for the rest of her life. If Enabran didn’t reward her for helping keep his son’s dirty secret. Since that incident, he’d learned not to dismiss idle chatter out of hand.

 

However, idle chatter was not on today’s agenda.

 

He glanced up at the two Klingons sitting at a table on the upper level. Lursa and B’Etor, of the House of Duras. Exiles of the Klingon Empire, disgraced after it was discovered they used the help of the Romulans to fight against the Empire. He wasn’t sure why Commander Sisko allowed them to roam the station freely - likely due to simpering Starfleet ideals - but if they weren’t up to something devious, Garak would be highly surprised. 

 

“And how are you this evening, Mr. Garak?”

 

The Cardassian was surprised to meet the smiling face of Dr. Bashir.  _ Approaching me on his own now? Interesting. _ He raise a finger to correct the greeting, but the human forestalled him.

 

“Excuse me,” Julian said, smiling in amusement, “Just ‘plain, simple’ Garak.”

 

The doctor had debated whether or not to speak to the Cardassian again. Certainly seeking him out would be misconstrued as interest, but he felt there had been something unsettling about their last meeting. Perhaps it was just that he still couldn’t decide if he had acted alpha enough, or perhaps it was the omega’s unusually aggressive demeanor that had thrown him off. In either case, when he had happened to spy the man out of the corner of his eye, he decided there would be no harm in being forwardly friendly. 

 

Of course, it had nothing to do with the possibility of Garak being a  _ spy _ tickling all of his James Bond fantasies and perhaps overruling his better sense. None whatsoever.

 

“Plain  _ and _ simple,” Garak said, smiling wryly. This was certainly an interesting turn of events - he had intended to speak to the doctor again, if only for his own amusement, but hadn’t at all expected the man to approach him of his own accord.  _ Perhaps I was too hasty in my judgement on his alpha status. _

 

The Cardassian held out a hand, “Join me, doctor -  _ enhance _ my evening.”

 

Julian thought about leaving for less than a moment - coming from an omega, that was a rather flirtatious way of inviting him to sit, and he was still uninterested in omegas. Even so… it was also said more in the fashion of an order than a request, which was, the doctor had to admit, rather appealing. So he sat.

 

“Keeping an eye on the ebb and flow of things, are we?” Julian looked around, the secrecy offered by the shadowed corner not lost on him. 

 

Garak almost snorted -  _ ah, he thinks I’m a spy. If that’s the best he can do, this is going to become a very dull conversation _ . As was his wont, the Cardassian deflected, “As a clothier, I do have a keen interest in what the population is wearing from day to day.”

 

Then he had a thought.  _ You think you’re clever, doctor - let’s test that, shall we? _

 

Garak looked up at the Duras sisters, “Klingons have an odd sense of style, don’t you agree?”

 

“Oh yes, they do,” Julian replied, brows furrowing as the conversation slipped away from him. 

 

“But intriguing,” the Cardassian went on, before the doctor tried to change the subject, “I would say that those two outfits are worth studying closely.” 

 

He looked up again, hoping  _ this _ time the human caught on.

 

Julian followed the clothier’s gaze, spotting the Duras sisters. It was obvious the Cardassian was trying to tell him something, but he had no idea what it could be. So he glanced around Quark’s for some kind of hint - but, finding none, was suddenly disappointed.  _ Perhaps he really isn’t a spy, afterall - just a ‘plain and simple’ tailor indeed. _ He smiled uncomfortably at the man, trying to come up with something to say. 

 

_ Please don’t be this stupid _ , Garak thought. Then he noticed the man he’d been waiting to appear - Tahna Los. He spoke to the doctor, “Look.”

 

Julian twisted around, spying the Bajoran as well.  _ Kira’s friend? _ When he looked up, he saw the Klingons get up from their seats. The pair left the bar shortly after Tahna - like they had been waiting for him.  _ Now, that’s interesting. _

 

“Where are they going, do you suppose?”

 

Garak smiled, sitting back, “I haven’t the slightest idea, doctor. But it does seem a very… fashion forward choice, mixing Klingon and Bajoran styles.”

 

Julian squinted at the Cardassian, trying to parse out just how much the man really knew about the situation, “Perhaps… the styles have something in common you are unaware of.”

 

Garak’s brows rose.  _ Dangerous ground, doctor, though a glimmer of hope that you can rise above the ineptitude of your peers, _ “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am considering the wrong styles entirely. Tell me, doctor, what kind of  _ style _ do you prefer?”

 

“Me?” the doctor chuckled nervously.  _ There he goes again - I can’t get a read on this man. What is he getting at? _ “I… I can’t say I prefer any style.”

 

The Cardassian tilted his head just so, “Come now, everyone has some… natural inclination towards one thing or the other. A particular pattern or cut, a favorite color…” he waved a hand for the multitude of possibilities. 

 

While not an exact science, there were a few trends that could be seen among alphas, betas, and omegas when it came to dressing. Alphas generally preferred bright colors and dramatic cuts, much like the plumage of a male bird. Betas tended toward neutral tones and more nondescript styles that didn’t draw too much attention. Omegas went for the softest materials and comfiest cuts, and many preferred neutral patterns over solids - usually a hold over of prey instincts for camouflage. While Garak’s question may seem innocuous to the untrained ear, the tailor was carefully gathering information to better determine the nature of his new ‘friend’.

 

Julian shrugged, still uncertain at the second change in subject, “Well, I like bold colors, I suppose - and I like that one pattern. Ah, the… floral one, but isn’t actually flowers?”

 

The Cardassian considered the doctor.  _ I can’t tell if this is a cunning act of innocence or this man is running circles around me. Or perhaps I simply do not know enough about humans. _ Then he smiled, “Paisley, is the human term, I believe.”

 

“That’s the one!” Julian snapped his fingers. Licking his lips and looking around, he tried to come up with something to say.  _ Come on, Julian - what would James Bond do? _

 

Garak shook his head.  _ No, no one that wears their thoughts so openly could be toying with me after my training. _ He glanced down, and picked up his glass, “Have you ever had kanar, doctor?”

 

The doctor looked up, “Uh… n-no, I can’t say I have. I’m not sure it would be to my tastes.”

 

The Cardassian smiled, “Of course not - you haven’t tried it yet.”

 

Julian opened his mouth to object, then sighed and conceded the point with a tilt of his head.  _ Well, I suppose the alpha thing to do here is rise to the challenge, _ “Well then, Garak, as I have heard tales of other humans finding kanar distasteful, would you recommend a… mild version?”

 

Garak considered the request.  _ Is he looking for guidance as an uncomfortable omega unable to refuse, or is he an alpha considering this a challenge? But if he is an alpha, why ask for a mild kanar rather than the most potent? Is he assuming the alpha thing to do would be accept, but unconcerned with damaging his pride by asking for a mild drink? Or could he simply be being polite, and asking in honesty so as not to lose face?  _ “Certainly - the island of Elar creates a kanar that is much sweeter than the more common variety. I have heard that Bajorans, at least, find it more palatable than other kinds.”

 

Julian nodded and rose, “Then I shall return to determine whether or not kanar is… my style.”

 

The Cardassian smiled at the quip, inclining his head as his companion approached the bar. What he had failed to mention that Elar kanar was also far more alcoholic than the other kinds available. While there were exceptions to the rule - there always were exceptions - alcohol had certain effects on behavior. Mainly in heightening certain key characteristics. Alphas became more aggressive and territorial, while betas acted more agreeable and companionable. Omegas tended towards nurturing behaviors and physical contact. Nothing was definitive by itself, of course - but the little pieces always added up in the end, and Garak had learned well how to collect the little pieces.

 

“Well, Quark looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, but I suppose he was just as happy to be selling merchandise that is no longer in demand,” the Starfleet doctor said, sitting back across from his Cardassian companion. He sniffed the light blue liquid and frowned - it certainly  _ smelled _ sweet… in a rotting fruit sort of way. 

 

“Ferengi Rules of Acquisition number ten: Greed is Eternal,” Garak said. He raised his own glass - the more common black kanar, “To new experiences, doctor.”

 

Julian’s brows rose, but he smiled and raised his glass, “To new experiences.”

 

The Cardassian drank frist, using his glass to partially hide his gaze as he watched the human.

 

The doctor took a steeling breath, then downed the glass.  _ Down the hatch, as they say. _ His whole face wrinkled up, and he coughed at the mucus-like sensation left behind from the drink. The taste was so strong it was hard to tell the actual potency of the drink beyond it - fortunately, Julian knew his own tolerance to be  _ un _ fortunately high.  _ Thank you, father, for the one most uselessly useful trick genetic resequencing gave me - the liver of a alcoholic Klingon. _

 

Garak smiled in genuine amusement at the reaction - not that he hadn’t been expecting it. The doctor had not been exaggerating the distaste other races found for kanar, after all.  _ Now, for the real show _ , “Are you alright, doctor?”

 

Julian had to clear his throat several times before answering, “Well, now I know - kanar is  _ not _ to my taste.”

 

The Cardassian snorted, “And you are the richer for having experienced it yourself, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, Garak - have you experienced human alcohol?” 

 

The tailor blinked, “Pardon?”

 

Julian chuckled, “You can’t say you’re surprised - you  _ did _ convince me to try Cardassian alcohol, why wouldn’t I ask if you’d experienced the human kind?”

 

Garak consider his reply for only a moment.  _ Alpha challenge? Omega nurturing? Beta companionship? Human custom?  _ “I suppose you have a point. And as I did toast to new experiences, it would appear appropriate that I have my own.”

 

The doctor rose, holding up his hands, “No, allow me - it’s easier for me to get out, anyways.”

 

The Cardassian had barely risen, but settled back as Julian hd already made his way to the bar. He thought through the last exchange, and realized there were simply too many variables to take into account. At least, too many variables he didn’t know. He would need to study human culture to be able to separate custom from behavior, for starters, and to ensure the difference between humans alphas and Cardassian alphas wasn’t so great that he misjudged everything. As far as his current knowledge went, most races found little difference in the instincts between them, but little differences could affect more than most people realized. 

 

Julian returned with two glasses of amber colored liquid, “This is what we call scotch - not exactly a staple alcoholic beverage, but closer to kanar in potency, I think.”

 

Garak accepted the drink, and took a sniff of it. His nose crinkled - it smelled bitter and rich, but with none of the sweetness of kanar.

 

The doctor smirked at the look, and raised his glass, “To new experiences.”

 

The Cardassian sighed, but mirrored the motion, “To new  _ friends _ .”

 

Julian shrugged, and downed the drink.

 

Garak, not to be outdone, downed his as well. He coughed at the burning sensation, frowning at the way the taste seemed to disappear almost as soon as he’d drank it.  _ Why would you want a drink so difficult to savor? What is the point of this? _

 

“Well?” the doctor asked, crossing his hands in front of him.

 

The tailor effected a smile, “I do believe, doctor, that scotch is as much to my taste as kanar is to yours.”

 

Julian laughed, “Then in the future, Garak, I suggest that we stick to choosing our own poisons.”

 

“Oh?” the Cardassian arched his brows, “Are you suggesting we will drink together again?”

 

The doctor flinched in surprise, then licked his lips, “Ah… w-well, I… suppose it’s entirely possible, of course… I hadn’t made plans  _ not _ to share another drink. Though, as I said, that drink would not be kanar.”

 

Garak smiled, flashing his teeth for a moment.  _ Perhaps I have drank a touch too much _ , “Of course, doctor - I think I would  _ greatly _ enjoy sharing another drink in the future. Just not scotch.”

 

Julian cleared his throat again, glancing away.

 

_ Nervous habit? Human custom? Beta politeness? _ The Cardassian just about kicked himself for dismissing beta out of hand - always preparing for the worst made it hard not to think in extremes. Especially considering how many Cardassian betas wore alpha scents - but of course, this still did not make sense for a human. Cardassian betas had a purpose behind their deception - this deception did not seem to have a benefit attached. If it  _ were _ a deception - Garak had to admit that in his boredom, he could simply be inventing a conspiracy to keep his mind entertained. 

 

The doctor glanced back, then sighed and rose from the table, “Well, this has been… pleasant, Garak. But I must be moving on - early shift tomorrow, and all that.”

 

The tailor inclined his head, widening his eyes in faux understanding, “Of course, doctor, of course - until next time.”

 

Julian gave a weak smile.  _ Why does he always have to make it a statement? _ “Right. Until next time.”

 

Garak nodded once more, watching as his companion retreated to the Promenade. The he sighed and rose himself. He had already seen the Duras sisters meet up with Tahna Los, and he watched Odo trail after the trio. It would seem there was nothing more for him to do at the moment, and so he made his own retreat to his room for the night. He would try to further puzzle out the doctor’s nature when he was better equipped to do so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, so I finally updated this. Had part of the chapter written out for a while and just got stuck, then was working on my original stuff. (Self-published this past year and working on the sequel.) But, hey, here's this?

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts on A/B/O dynamics being different among different species are my own, though the concept was inspired by "O, Julian" and I, Garak". Meant to write more for the first chapter, but I'm a little stuck, so... consider this a prologue? (Yes, I see the irony.)


End file.
